Horizon
by Zarius
Summary: The Doctor makes ice tea. Possibly, and reflects on how lucky everyone was to have found company with O.


**DOCTOR WHO**

**HORIZON**

**WRITTEN BY ZARIUS**

* * *

The Doctor looked at the instructions carefully.

"Let's see, start by brewing, boil two cups, steep three to four black tea bags for five minutes maximum"

She paused.

"I'm certain I only steeped them at three. Oh fiddlesticks, does that mean I have to start again?" she spoke aloud, feeling as if she were back in the academy doing her best not to fumble a pridorian roast on a blissfully murky Gallifreyan day, which was often rare for the seasons in which they had roasts.

This should be easier to make, it wasn't a meal, it was refreshment. Yet here she was, making a _proper_ meal out of it.

The Doctor set about brewing more of the liquid concoction and produced four more tea bags, this time steeping them in and leaving them until the proper time elapsed.

"OK, next up is two more cups of cold water, pour into a pitcher and refrigerate for two to three hours?!"

The Doctor seemed insulted at the time it took to prepare the liquid she had prepared with such amateur care.

"It'll be tea time before I serve the lads this jug" she muttered with a stubborn frustration, she vowed not to restrained by the natural order of time, like she was with many other things in her daily routine.

She took the liquid contents up the TARDIS staircase, opened a compartment on one of the walls, and stored it inside, sealing it shut. She set the timer for several nano-seconds. As soon as they had rapidly sped by, she removed it, feeling a cold intensity from the handle travelling across her fingers.

She gave the tea a small sip. For some reason, it tasted a little peppery.

"Must be the Aspartame" she said, wondering whether or not she was meant to have added it.

She took a gander at the holographic surveillance screens, first taking a glance at Yaz, seated outside the hut, visibly trembling and trying to hold her emotions in check following her harrowing experience the night before.

She needed soothing sounds provided by the sonic to sleep soundly.

"Poor thing" The Doctor spoke of her usually resilient companion, before inspiration struck her and how she could best cheer her up.

Tell you what, when I pour her a glass, I'll leave her three Digestive biscuits instead of the regular two that she has with her normal tea"

She spotted Ryan emerging from the house to provide Yaz with a shoulder to lean on, a voice to converse with, a hand to hold.

"Ryan Sinclair, you really care" she said, proud of the lad.

Her attention turned to the interior of the hut, and observed Graham and O take turns drinking tea.

She hadn't yet turned the TARDIS speakers on, but she could lip-read.

They were talking about her. My how she felt important.

Two men of respectable character discussing someone while at work.

She spotted O pointing to a stack of files, her meticulous lip reading skills helping her to suss out that they contained information all about her, and that he was tempting Graham with

Now was the time to put them back to work, before interest in her drove her best friends to distraction.

She took another glance at the cool jug, checking the temperature of the liquid by dipping the tip of her middle finger into it, giving the peppered aroma another sniff, and questioned yet again if she had taken the right steps in putting together the refreshment, before waltzing out of the TARDIS.

"Come on you two, everyone outside. Lot's to catch up on. I made ice tea. Possibly"

She pointed the jug to Graham excitedly, hoping he'd be impressed with her efforts.

She noticed that he'd barely started sipping the tea that O had offered him, and the look in his eyes indicated he was now torn between enjoying his hot mug, or quenching his thirst with what she had worked tirelessly on.

The Doctor respected him enough to leave him to his own judgement, no pressure. He was a lovely man with an open mind, he'd come around to pleasing her, she eagerly anticipated it.

Maybe next time she could try to make a five course meal, or rather in her case, it'd likely be a five course _correction_. She really was her own worst judge of skill.

Taking a step outside, she let the warm Great Victorian breeze dance across her features, and reflected on just how lucky everyone was to have found company with O.

He had picked a beautiful spot to reside in. The Great Victoria Desert. The largest in the Australian landscape. Golden sandhills, whole areas coated with gibber plains, the saltiest of lakes, over 700 kilometres wide, west to east.

It could be a dangerous spot too, thunderstorms were very common. She relished the danger of course,

She wished she could stay out here for another few dozen lifetimes, here in the outback, distanced from the concerns of the universe, as she had before, for 123 years, the rocks were the most beautiful things to gaze upon out there.

They had always piqued The Doctor's curiosity; they had a spark of defiance to them. Crafted by freakish acts of nature, unmoving, unbending. They were a testament to the resistance of change, a stubborn constant for every living soul even if change is an inevitability for all.

The Doctor wasn't envious of this, she had learned over many an incarnation that everyone was capable of incredible change while still staying true to their core fundamentals. To stand completely still while the tides of change wash over you, that's what impressed her the most about rocks.

Thinking about it, perhaps that's what fascinated her about Graham and O the most. They had experienced great change in their lives, but had remained true to themselves, one rationalised his exile, following termination of employment, as being for the best and doubled down on his research into alien infiltration to great effect, and the other saw his wife slip away from the grip of life, and yet wanted more from it.

Both sought new life, O with aliens, Graham with every corner of creation's pleasures. If it meant danger came attached to it, then they accepted that reality and did their best to work with what they got so they could conjure up an ideal scenario that led them out the other end of the tunnel, towards another new horizon, and another fresh opportunity to hold on to the life they had built in the wake of greater hardships.

She admired them for that, and perhaps even loved them both for it.

If only she could spend more time here, be as unmoving and as unbending as a rock.

As the day wore on, and their work began in earnest, she got the distinct feeling that the time spent in Australia, perhaps a bit of a honeymoon phase for her, may never come again, and, though she knew the mission mattered more, the inevitability of it's climax concerned her just as greatly.

Everything has it's time, and everything ends, but nothing is forgotten.

And she would never be over this horizon.


End file.
